


Everywhere

by blueruin



Series: A Song for You [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueruin/pseuds/blueruin
Summary: The title is from "Everywhere" by Polaris, on which this story is loosely based.This is for El, who unknowingly published a zarry fic on my birthday. Cake and crying soonest, yes?





	Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vicepresidents](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicepresidents/gifts).



> The title is from "Everywhere" by Polaris, on which this story is loosely based.
> 
> This is for El, who unknowingly published a zarry fic on my birthday. Cake and crying soonest, yes?

Lonely is the room, and you are by your lonesome, just as you have always been since he left. Even the lazy old sun is tucked away somewhere, allowing misty clouds to appear in full gloom.

The calendar on your bedside table indicates that many moons have passed, yet his absence still lingers around the empty house like a faint whiff of perfume on his side of the bed.

You rouse from a state of semi-stupor, and you wash away the remnants of yesterday and all the other days that oh so desperately cling to your skin.

Then you trudge to the kitchen and accidentally cook a little bit too much – the leftovers, now a painful reminder that you cook for one instead of two.

Half-awake and half-grieving, you grab your keys and seek refuge inside your car. It takes you a while to decide where to go – everything you come up with is someplace you’ve already been, once before, with him.

You drive in silence, save for the light pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield. You wander about in a desultory fashion. You try to ignore how everything is tainted and tangled up in memories of him, and for a little while, you succeed in doing so.

But just when you think you’ve maintained a steady pace, you notice a familiar figure that sends you crashing headfirst into that liminal state between _hold on_ and _hell no_.

For a few excruciating moments, you consider going after it. _After him_. You think about calling out his name to see if he’ll turn around at the sound of your voice, but you fear that he won’t recognize it anymore. Or worse – that he does, but he chooses to ignore it.

You debate with yourself whether it was actually him or just a figment of your imagination. But it’s a waste of time, because it doesn’t matter. Whether it was or it wasn’t, he’s there because he’s everywhere.

In photographs and letters stashed away in boxes, snippets of songs blasting from passing cars, a name in random conversations, a face in the crowd. A whiff of smoke, a glimpse of a tattoo, a brush of a fingertip, the echo of a laugh, the sticky sweetness of syrup on your tongue, the lump in your throat, the ache in your gut.

You stop the car, just so you can breathe and clear your head.

_I can try to hide, but why waste my time?_

You throw a question to the universe, and you find the answer in the echo of his absence.

So you breathe, and you take your time. You wait for the bruises to heal, the scars to fade, the rain to subside.

He’s here, there, and everywhere – but it’s fine. You’re fine.

It is an odd sensation, this realization. But it does not seem to surprise you, as if you’ve been waiting for it all along. There is still a gaping hole in your chest – a glaring memento from a relationship that waned and withered – but the weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Then, as if on cue, the sun comes up and saunters slowly, lazily, a bit late and overslept, but present at this moment.

You start to move – gradually, but with purpose. You know you’ll see him again, but it’s okay. Here you are, with a half-lit world and a steady pace, letting go and moving forward. Even if you don’t know where you’re going, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to talk, send me a note on [Tumblr](https://smoke-flowers.tumblr.com) and I’ll reply. I promise.


End file.
